A poem for my dad

vivianimbriotis | April 28, 2024, 6:02 p.m.

You’re with me in my head still, a little voice I hear,

A pale imitation of your rough and raucous tone

Telling me a joke and keeping my head clear

 

The first thing is honor! I learned that from you

A man looks around and asks “how can I help, what can I do?”

That’s with me still, a little voice I hear

 

And when the evening comes and everyone despairs

Far more important than an answer or a prayer

Is telling them a joke and keeping their heads clear

 

The third thing is strength! In your special kind of way

Let go, let things change; need less and let come what may

That’s with me still, a little voice I hear

 

And everyone is worth talking to, no matter when or who

There’s always something to learn, or if not you’d make do

With telling them a joke and keeping their heads clear

 

My harmonica-souled man, my righteous cockatoo

My fiber and my humor, I owe them all to you

And you’re with me for a while now, a little voice I hear

Telling me a joke and keeping my head clear